by R. L. Stine
“See you back at the hotel,” Kit told Billy. He took Danielle’s hand and guided her through the maze of dancers.
As they neared the door, Danielle spotted Dee. Dee had her eyes on Kit, an intense expression on her face.
It’s not Billy she wants, Danielle suddenly realized. It’s Kit. Dee’s jealous of my singing. Now she’s going to be jealous about Kit.
Dee’s gaze followed Kit all the way to the door. But he didn’t seem to notice.
Outside, Kit kept hold of Danielle’s hand. His grip was firm and warm.
But Danielle shivered.
“Cold?” Kit asked, turning to her.
“A little.” Danielle glanced up. No more clouds to block the moon.
Kit released her hand and slipped his arm around her shoulder. “Should we get you a sweater or something?”
It’s not the wind, Danielle thought. There isn’t any wind.
It’s me.
When they reached the park, Kit led her to a stone bench. It was surrounded by trees. Silvery moonlight filtered through the leaves.
“It’s pretty here,” Danielle commented, trying to sound enthusiastic.
“Quiet too.” Kit snickered. “Maybe I’m in the wrong business. The noise really gets to me sometimes.”
Danielle forced a smile. What is going on? she asked herself. Here I am, alone with Kit. I should be really excited.
Instead, she felt cold. Cold and strange.
She raised a hand to her hair. She could feel it bristling again.
But Kit wasn’t looking at her hair.
His blue eyes were fastened on Danielle’s. They glowed with intensity. “I’ve been wanting to be alone with you for a long time, Danielle,” he whispered. He smiled and leaned forward.
All Danielle could see was the light in his eyes.
Kit leaned even closer and kissed her. Danielle kissed him back.
You’ve stopped shivering, she thought to herself. You’re warm again.
She felt the blood rushing through her veins and kissed him harder.
Harder.
He seemed a little surprised but pressed his lips against hers.
Danielle shut her eyes and kissed harder.
Kit screamed as Danielle bit down hard on his lip.
Chapter 5
FIRST BLOOD
Gasping, Kit leaped up from the bench. He uttered a groan and gently pressed a hand against his lips.
What have I done? Danielle wondered, suddenly trembling all over. Why did I do that?
She gazed up in horror. Blood trickled from Kit’s lips, between his fingers.
The blood shone black in the moonlight.
“Danielle?” Kit whispered hoarsely. His expression revealed his confusion. “Why—?”
“I’m sorry!” Danielle choked out. She jumped to her feet, her heart pounding. “I don’t know what happened! I’m sorry!”
Kit held out his hand, but Danielle pushed past it. Then, almost without realizing it, she started to run, run through the cold silver moonlight toward the hotel.
She swallowed hard. Once. Twice. She could taste Kit’s blood in her mouth.
Why did I do that? she asked herself again. Why did I bite him so hard?
Why? Why?
A frightening thought made her shudder: I enjoyed it
I enjoyed biting his lip as hard as I could.
The hotel clerk glanced up as Danielle raced breathlessly into the lobby. She turned her face away and hurried to the elevator.
She punched the button, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. A smear of Kit’s blood came off on her hand. She shuddered again.
By the time she burst into her room, hot tears ran down her cheeks.
“Danielle!” Caroline cried, turning from the closet. “What happened?”
I can’t tell her, Danielle thought. How can I tell her I tasted Kit’s blood and enjoyed it?
Caroline belted her blue terry-cloth robe around her slim figure and crossed the room to Danielle. “What happened?” she repeated, placing a hand on Danielle’s arm. “You’re so cold, Danny. And are you—are you crying?”
Danielle swallowed. “I have to see Dr. Moore,” she managed to say. “Caroline, something’s wrong with me.
Concern filled Caroline’s blue eyes. “Did you have another fantasy?”
“Sort of.” Danielle couldn’t make herself tell the real story.
“Violent?”
“Yes!” Danielle cried. “Worse than ever. Caroline, I have to see Dr. Moore tomorrow. He’s the only one who can help me!”
“Then you’ll see him,” Caroline assured her. “We’ll talk to Billy about getting you a ride. Don’t worry, Billy will be cool about it.”
“But our rehearsals,” Danielle protested.
“We don’t go on until eight at night,” Caroline reminded her. “There’ll be plenty of time for you to drive to Shadyside and back.”
Danielle hoped Caroline was right about Billy letting her go. She had to see Dr. Moore.
“You’re shaking,” Caroline commented. “Listen, I was about to take a shower, but you take one first. It’ll warm you up.”
In the tiny shower stall Danielle turned the water up as hot as she could bear it. The almost-scalding spray warmed her skin, but the memory of her kiss in the park still chilled her.
Would something else happen before Dr. Moore could help her?
Something worse?
Out of the shower she wrapped up in her long yellow robe. In the mirror her dark eyes were enormous, her face pale. Her hands were still shaking as she pulled a comb through her hair.
After Caroline disappeared into the steamy bathroom, Danielle began to pace the bedroom. She couldn’t calm down. She couldn’t stop her heart from pounding.
Then she spotted her guitar case.
Maybe music will help, she thought.
She pulled the guitar out and sat on the end of her bed. Out the window she could see the moon. A circle of ice in the sky.
Her fingers strummed the strings. The guitar wasn’t hooked up to an amplifier, so the sound was muted. But it didn’t matter. She could hear the notes clearly in her head, and that was all she needed.
She kept strumming. No tune at first. Just a few soft chords.
But as she gazed at the moon, she heard a melody in her mind. A melody—and lyrics. With no hesitation, no searching for the right note, she played and sang her new composition.
“Bad moonlight, falling over me,
Bad moonlight, shining down on me,
Bad moonlight
Makes me feel so strange and new.
“Bad moonlight, falling over me,
Bad moonlight, shining down on me,
Bad moonlight—
I want to die for you!”
How totally weird, Danielle thought as she finished. I’ve never written anything so easily. It was like magic.
“Danielle, that song—it’s awesome!” Caroline exclaimed from the bathroom doorway. “When did you write it?”
“Just now,” Danielle told her. “It sort of came to me. All at once. I didn’t even have to work on it. Do you really like it?”
“Like it? I love it! It’s absolutely the best song you’ve ever written!” Caroline grinned. “Bad moonlight—sounds really wicked!”
Wicked, Danielle thought. Exactly. In a flash she realized that it was the moon that had been making her feel so strange. So cold.
But why? What was so bad about the moonlight?
“I’m going to call the others in here so they can hear it.” Caroline pulled the damp towel from her head and grabbed the telephone.
A few minutes later the rest of the group crowded into the room. Dee wore her robe, but the rest of them were dressed. Joey’s clothes were rumpled, as if he’d fallen asleep in them.
“This better be good,” Joey said with a yawn. “I was having a great dream when you called. In the dream these two girls—”
“Joey, no one cares,” Bill
y cut him off.
“Wait till you hear it,” Caroline declared. “Go ahead, Danielle. Play it.”
Danielle strummed an opening chord, then launched into the song. When she finished, no one moved or said anything.
Then Billy started clapping his hands and everyone joined in. Joey whistled and stomped his feet. Mary Beth’s green eyes glowed with excitement. Only Dee refused to join in the applause.
Kit squeezed Danielle’s shoulder. “It’s a killer,” he told her. “A killer!”
“Thanks, Kit,” Danielle murmured uncomfortably. She glanced up and saw the dark bruise on his lip. Feeling embarrassed and guilty, she turned away.
Dee was staring at Kit. “How’d you cut your mouth?” she asked him. “Have you been opening beer bottles with your teeth again?”
“My razor slipped,” he replied casually, not glancing at Danielle.
Dee squinted at him. “You shave at night?”
“Didn’t get a chance this morning,” Kit replied. He rubbed his lip tenderly.
Dee shook her head suspiciously.
Oh, wow, Danielle thought unhappily. Dee is crazy about Kit. Now she has another reason to hate me.
“Just call me a klutz,” Kit said, sighing.
“Well, just call us Bad Moonlight!” Caroline exclaimed. “It’s the perfect name for our band—Bad Moonlight! What do you think?”
“Sounds kind of evil.” Mary Beth raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I love it.”
“What about you, Dee?” Caroline asked.
Dee shrugged. “Like anyone cares what I think,” she replied with a scowl.
“Hey, this is excellent! We have a name!” Billy exclaimed. “Now I can tell the club manager how to introduce you. And speaking of the club,” he added, “we’ve got rehearsal at eight-thirty. That’s A.M., not P.M. Everybody better get some sleep.”
The group made their way out, and Caroline followed them. “I’ll talk to Billy about getting you a ride to Shadyside tomorrow,” she called to Danielle.
Alone in the room Danielle put her guitar away. She still felt edgy. Tense.
She climbed into bed and closed her eyes. Immediately she saw Kit, standing in front her, his lip bleeding, the blood black in the moonlight.
Think about something else, Danielle scolded herself. Anything else. She turned onto her side, bunching the pillow under her head.
She thought about her new song. “Bad Moonlight.” Strange. She’d never written anything like it. Was it really a killer song as Billy had said? Did they all really think it was as good as they said?
Thinking about how easy it was to write the song, she drifted to sleep.
An animal wail shattered the silence.
Danielle’s eyes snapped open.
Did she dream it?
She waited. Alert. Listening.
“Ohhh.” Danielle realized it hadn’t been a dream.
She held her breath as another frightening howl rose up outside her window.
“What’s out there?” she cried aloud. “What’s making that hideous sound?”
Chapter 6
SCRATCH SCRATCH
Silence.
Then another high-pitched howl.
“Caroline?” Danielle whispered. “Do you hear that?”
No answer from the other bed. Danielle fumbled for her clock on the bedside table.
Midnight.
She’d been asleep for only twenty minutes. Is Caroline still talking to Billy about my ride? Danielle wondered.
Another howl, mournful this time. The howl of a wild animal. So close. So very close.
Joey flashed into her mind. Joey was always tossing back his head and howling like a wild wolf.
Danielle crossed the room in the dark. Reluctantly she pulled up the blind and peered out the window.
Cold, bright moonlight poured over the buildings and the street.
Danielle’s scalp prickled. To her surprise, she felt a sudden urge to run outside. To join in the howling.
No! she scolded herself.
What are you thinking of?
She pulled the shade down, covering the window.
Back in bed she curled up and tried to ignore the howls.
Another sound made her sit up.
A soft, urgent rap on the door.
“Danielle!”
Dee’s voice, calling in a hoarse whisper. “Danielle—I have to talk to you. Now!”
Danielle held her breath and settled back down. No way, she thought angrily. No way I’m letting Dee in.
Why should I talk to Dee? Danielle asked herself.
So Dee can tell me how much she hates me for joining the band and being the lead singer? Danielle already knew Dee was her enemy. She didn’t have to hear Dee spell it out.
“Danielle!” Dee whispered again. “I know you’re in there.” Her knuckles rapped on the door. “Open up, Danielle. Now!”
Go away, Danielle silently begged. Just go away.
After a few more raps, Dee gave up.
Silence in the hall.
Outside, another frightening howl cut through the still summer air.
♦ ♦ ♦
Danielle tightened her grip on the steering wheel of the borrowed car and peered anxiously at the road sign up ahead. Forty more miles to Shadyside. In less than an hour she’d have a talk with Dr. Moore.
Caroline was right—Billy had been cool about letting her take off after rehearsal. He knew one of the waiters at the club and talked him into letting Danielle borrow his car.
Danielle shook her head. Billy was probably glad to get rid of her. She’d been rotten at rehearsal. Her timing stank and her voice sounded puny. Her fingers felt as clumsy as sausages on the guitar strings.
“Hey, don’t think about it,” Billy told her during a break. “A bad run-through means a good show.”
“Well, in this case it means a great show!” Danielle joked. “This run-through is really the pits.”
Of course Dee had given Danielle a hard time. “What’s your problem?” Dee demanded. “Wild night?”
“No, I crashed early,” Danielle told her. She didn’t want Dee to know she’d heard her knocking. And she decided not to mention the howls. No one else in the group had mentioned hearing them. They all looked wide awake and rested. “It’s just nerves. I’ll be fine tonight.”
Dee glared at her, but kept quiet.
“You’ll be better than fine,” Kit told Danielle as he untangled the cord on the guitar amp. “Your new song’s going to kill everyone!”
Danielle felt her face flush. How could Kit be so friendly after what she’d done to him? She wished she could go back in time and erase it.
She felt a powerful attraction to Kit. But even though he still smiled at her a lot, he probably never wanted to be alone with her again.
Sighing, Danielle steered the car around a curve on the road. Forget about Kit for now, she told herself. Get to Dr. Moore. Get help.
Half an hour later Danielle joined the stream of cars on Division Street in Shadyside. She passed rows of stores and three-story office buildings, then turned onto Park Drive and drove into North Hills.
She wished she could visit her brother and her aunt. But there wasn’t time. Once she saw Dr. Moore, she had to drive straight back to Midland.
Dr. Moore’s office was in his house, a huge gray Victorian near the river. Danielle pulled the car to a stop under the side portico and ran up the steps to the door.
A bell announced her entrance. The receptionist wasn’t at her desk. Danielle flopped down in one of the soft beige chairs and picked up a magazine.
Almost immediately she tossed the magazine aside and jumped up. She was too nervous to sit.
Something’s happening to me, she thought. Something bad. I have to find out what. And why.
“Danielle?” A smooth, deep voice broke into her thoughts.
“Dr. Moore!” Danielle stopped pacing and spun around.
The doctor stood in the door of his office. A
tall bear of a man with a fringe of graying hair around his head. Bright blue eyes beneath bushy gray brows.
His clothes were always slightly rumpled. His glasses were always smudged.
“I tried to call, but the line was busy,” Danielle explained. “I know you’ve got other patients, but you have to squeeze me in.” She tried not to sound desperate. But her voice came out shrill and breathless.
Dr. Moore waved her toward his office. “Another patient canceled. Come in, Danielle.”
The tall French windows of the large room faced the backyard. A small swimming pool filled the center of the yard. A line of trees separated the pool from the river.
Bookcases lined two of the office walls. Colorful posters of flowers hung on the others. Two deep, soft armchairs faced the desk.
Dr. Moore motioned Danielle into one of the chairs, then sat on the edge of his desk.
“What happened?” he asked.
Barely pausing for breath, Danielle told him about the violent fantasy she experienced in the van. The strange song she wrote about the moonlight. And the frightening scene in the park with Kit.
“That wasn’t a fantasy!” she cried. “I actually bit him. I drew blood!”
“Are you attracted to Kit?” Dr. Moore asked.
“Yes, but—”
The doctor held up his hand. “And is he attracted to you?”
“I think so. At least, he was,” Danielle replied.
Dr. Moore smiled. “Two young people, kissing in the moonlight. Teeth sometimes get in the way, you know. Perhaps Kit turned his head slightly?”
Danielle felt a surge of hope.
“It’s highly unlikely that you acted violently,” Dr. Moore assured her.
“Maybe you’re right,” Danielle agreed. “But what about these terrible fantasies I have? They’re so violent!”
“Yes, let’s think about them,” Dr. Moore suggested. “Ready to clear your mind?”
Danielle nodded and closed her eyes.
The doctor started to hypnotize her. He’d done it many times.
“I want you to start counting backward from one hundred,” Dr. Moore whispered. “Shut everything out of your mind as you count. You will feel yourself relax with each number.”
Obediently Danielle began to count. “One hundred . . . ninety-nine . . . ninety-eight . . .”
